The Sunset
by xjaymanx
Summary: Ten years before Morpheus found Neo... Another hovercraft, another crew...
1. Default Chapter

THE SUNSET  
  
Series / Short Story   
  
(Approx. 22,000 words)   
  
Created 7-30-2003 and completed 9-13-2003 by Jay Manaloto   
  
Based on concepts by Larry & Andy Wachowski   
  
***  
  
Author's Note - The story takes place circa 090 A.Z., approximately 10 years before Morpheus finds Neo in the Matrix. --Jay   
  
***  
  
*1*  
  
***  
  
Amidst the soothing splashes of the ocean waves and the echoing cries of seagulls gliding towards the setting sun, her soft voice floated to him.   
  
"Helios?"  
  
"Yeah?" he answered, not wanting to open an eyelid or budge a bare muscle in his simple but comfortable fold-out recliner.  
  
"Do you ever wonder," the voice continued, "if we would've met... if we hadn't been unplugged?"  
  
Helios had to admit that he didn't. "Not really," he said, "but we were unplugged, and we did meet. And I'm thankful for that... Why?"  
  
"I don't know," the voice wondered. "Sometimes I think... What if I were never unplugged, and I was the same Dawn Washington? Would I have met you?"  
  
Helios finally opened his eyes, and briefly marvelled at the watercolor mixture of blues and oranges in the distant strands of clouds along the horizon. "And I was still Paul Osbourne?"  
  
"Yeah... Would we have met... oblivious of the Matrix?"  
  
"I don't know," he turned to the piercing dark eyes and enticing dark skin of his companion. "It's hard to imagine you before you were 'Aurora'."  
  
"I know what you mean," she smiled. "It's hard to imagine YOU before you were 'Helios'... or even before you were 'Captain Helios'."   
  
"Why thank you, 'Commander Aurora.' I'll take that as a compliment."  
  
They laughed contentedly, the warm salty breeze tossing the long dark braids of her hair. Lovingly, her right hand reached for the touch of his left hand.   
  
Suddenly, with the finest of subtleties only a long-time lover could catch, her glimmering irises faded, for only a moment, to an inhuman white then returned to their original mysterious darkness.  
  
"Dammit," Helios whispered to himself, closing his eyes. "I'm sorry, Aurora."  
  
"What for?" the soft voice replied, somewhat confused.  
  
"Unicorn!" he commanded to the reddening sky. "Shut it off!"  
  
Instantly, everything -- the sunset, the ocean, the sand, the seagulls, the breeze, and the woman he loved -- vanished into bright whiteness. And Helios awoke from the computer-generated Construct.  
  
***  
  
"Everything okay, Captain?" spoke the light-haired pale-skinned Senior Operator of the ninety-year-old hovercraft 'Nosferatu.' His somewhat-high voice carried definite concern, as he placed the unplugged head-spike connector back on its metal hook.  
  
"Everything's fine," admitted Helios, regaining his normal breathing and bearing in the real world -- plates and bolts, cables and hoses, grease and grime. "Just a minor glitch in the program."  
  
"Anything I can help you with?" the operator asked.  
  
"No, I'm fine." Readjusting the creased bill of his worn-and-torn orange cap, the captain got out of his chair, and headed to his nearby quarters across the central corridor. "Thanks, Unicorn."  
  
"Don't mention it." And the Senior Operator scratched the back of his pallid neck, just below the head-spike socket, one of the many sockets on his body that gave him the rare distinction as an 'unplugged' Operator.  
  
***  
  
Next  
  
***  
  
Story and Notes also at http://www.the-nos.com 


	2. The Sunset 2

THE SUNSET  
  
***  
  
*2*  
  
***  
  
"So, Milly, whattaya think?" the young Asian crewmember mumbled with a mouthful of synthetic breakfast. Legs hanging over the edge of the walkway that ringed the Engineering end of the hovercraft, he sat with a spoon in one hand and a tin can of soupy proteins and minerals in the other.  
  
As the scarlet-haired Commander Million disassembled another section of the aft cockpit-controlled gun battery, she thought, 'I hate it when he calls me that!' But instead, with a myriad of half-cleaned parts at her feet, and a smear of half-wiped grease across her cheek, she sighed, "About what?"  
  
"About my theory," the youngster said, taking another leisurely bite. "Come on, haven't you been listening?"  
  
"I don't know, Threads," Million uttered, cleaning another opened mechanism, "Have I? Maybe it's because I'm doing all the work."  
  
"Hang on, hang on, I'll help. Just give me a minute to finish my breakfast."  
  
"I'll be done by then."  
  
"But hear me out," Threads pursued. "Okay... We all know the regular reports of the Matrix depicting 'virtualities' in the 1990s, the '80s, and even as early as the '50s..."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Who's to say that remote pockets of the Matrix aren't in the 1800s or 1700s? Or hell, why not the time of the ancient Romans, Greeks, or Egyptians?"  
  
"You're serious?" Million paused briefly, then picked up another part.  
  
"Sure! Think about it this way..." Threads placed his spoon in the can and the can on the walkway grating. "How many people has the fleet successfully unplugged, let's say, in the last year? Maybe ten people?"  
  
The commander thought about it for a moment. "That's about right."  
  
"So over the last ninety years, we've unplugged no more than a thousand... Would you agree?"  
  
"Okay."  
  
"But of those thousand, the vast majority has come from the 1990s, some from the '80s, and maybe a few from the '70s and '60s. The point is--"  
  
"And what IS the point?" Million asked impatiently.  
  
"The point is," Threads continued, "while we've unplugged those thousand, we've only seen the tiniest fraction of the Matrix." To illustrate, he held a half-inch of air between his thumb and forefinger. "And as far as we know, there are BILLIONS in the Matrix." This time, with arms outstretched, he measured with both hands. "There could be THOUSANDS of 'virtualities' we'll never see, going back to the dawn of human civilization."   
  
"So we'll never see them," the commander reassembled a few more mechanisms. "There's no reason to."  
  
"Whattaya mean?"  
  
Commander Million put down her cleaning rags on one of the deactivated control consoles, and turned to the youngest member of the crew. "Well, if I understand your 'theory' correctly, the technological gap alone would limit the possibilities... The older the 'virtuality,' the larger the gap, and the riskier the rescue mission becomes... For one thing, the lack of telephone hardlines would be the greatest hindrance..."  
  
"Yeah, I thought about that..." Threads put a hand to his chin. "Couldn't we use fires? You know, camp fires, torch fires, or any other controlled fires. In an ancient civilization, they'd be the most sensible enter-and-exit transmission points."  
  
"Interesting..." Million wondered, "I like that..." She paused, then continued, "You know what? That could actually work... We'd have to ask Unicorn for the technical details... and maybe Hitchhiker has a few ideas... But if it's all code, the fire would have to be embedded or dug into the ground... like a phoneline is attached to the wall... As long as it's a hard-coded connection to the Matrix, the fire should be perfect."  
  
"And I also thought..."  
  
"Oh no." This time, the commander carried a hint of a smile.  
  
"...Couldn't we trigger lightning bolts to target the fires we want to set?"   
  
And just as quickly, the hint of her smile disappeared.  
  
***  
  
Next  
  
***  
  
Story and Notes also at http://www.the-nos.com 


	3. The Sunset 3

THE SUNSET  
  
***  
  
*3*  
  
***  
  
Staring up at the same rusty patches and bolt patterns in the ceiling of his quarters, Captain Helios laid silently in the bunk above his workstation, his orange cap on his muscular chest. The vibrations of the hover-pod engines generating a soothing hum, he began counting the bolts, starting in the upper-left corner, as he's always done. Yet since he assumed command of the 'Nosferatu' almost five years ago -- 'Funny,' he thought -- he has never counted them all...  
  
Then he remembered her eyes...  
  
"What am I missing?" he hissed to the rusty patches. "I accounted for the sunlight, the indirect skylight, the indirect waterlight... all of the color and reflection variables... Dammit, why are her eyes fading?"  
  
He remembered her fading eyes, and then her lovely warm-brown face, her wide soft-lipped smile... It was the simulated smile of a soldier on another old hovercraft on the other side of the known underground tunnel network... It was the simulation -- 'Just a damn simulation' -- of his wife, Commander Aurora.  
  
He started over again, going back to the upper-left corner of the ceiling, counting the bolts... 1, 2, 3...   
  
Again, he remembered her eyes...  
  
Helios could never forget the mixture of fear and pride in Aurora's blazing eyes when their son, Hitchhiker, first expressed his hunger to join a hovercraft crew in their war against the Machines. He was young and bold and brash -- 'He still is' -- but he was just like his father at the same age. How could he fault his son for that?   
  
When Hitchhiker was old enough, his undeniable skill as a trained hovercraft operator and pilot, earned him multiple requests for his abilities. But, in the end, when the opening presented itself -- 'And at the insistence of his mother' -- Hitchhiker chose the 'Nosferatu,' his father's ship. Why choose another ship, when he could choose a ship with family onboard?  
  
Now Hitchhiker has been Junior Operator for nearly two years... how time flies...  
  
And Hitchhiker has her eyes... those same blazing eyes...  
  
Helios sighed. And started over again... 1, 2, 3...  
  
***  
  
"Arrggghhh!" Hitchhiker yawned, as he rose from his cot and stretched to his full height of six-feet-plus. Born on Zion, the last human city amidst the raging Man-Machine War, he was the only one in the five-member crew without bio-mechanical plug-in sockets or 'holes' embedded in his body.  
  
He pulled a ragged grease-spotted gray shirt over his bare chest to match his darker grease-spotted gray pants. He shoved his feet into his oversized black boots. And he swung open and shut the door to his quarters before ambling towards the so-called 'mess hall' to pour some gooey breakfast.  
  
"Hey, g'morning, Hitch!" Senior Operator Unicorn brightened as the junior operator entered. "It's about time!"  
  
"Yeah, I know," Hitchhiker replied, opening the spout that drained liquid nutrients into his metal can. "I miss anything?" he asked before lowering himself onto the stool opposite Unicorn.  
  
"You know," Unicorn began, with a mysterious sideways squint that tried to over-analyze his crewmate's not-very-mysterious hunger. "I just unplugged your dad from the Construct about ten minutes ago."  
  
"So?" the captain's son said between slurps.  
  
"He must be designing some lean, mean, training machine."  
  
"What makes you say that?" Hitchhiker took a sip of water from his metal cup.  
  
"Not much," Unicorn admitted, taking a bite of his own meal. "He orders me to cloak his program before I can even get a glimpse, but--"  
  
"But what?"  
  
"But there are little things... like how he named the file 'Snapshot'. Maybe he plans to take a snapshot of our fighting abilities." Unicorn froze himself in mid-karate-chop.  
  
"Hmmm, I don't know about that."  
  
"And when he calls my name to decloak the audio... just before I unplug him... he sounds like he's angry or annoyed at something... like he can't beat the fighting program."  
  
Hitchhiker laughed. "Now I know you're seeing things! Maybe you're worried YOU won't beat the program!"  
  
***  
  
"Won't beat WHAT program?" joined Commander Million, her short red locks of hair bouncing as she strode crisply into the room. Threads followed behind her with an empty can in hand.   
  
With a broad toothy grin, Hitchhiker replied, "Unicorn is telling me his new theory... that my dad is designing a new training program."  
  
"Really?" Million said, as she and Threads smiled at each other. "Threads was just telling me HIS new theory that some corners of the Matrix may be running virtualities as old as ancient Egypt."  
  
"Damn!" cried Hitchhiker. "Were ALL of you THEORISTS before you guys were unplugged?"  
  
***  
  
Next  
  
***  
  
Story and Notes also at http://www.the-nos.com 


	4. The Sunset 4

THE SUNSET  
  
***  
  
*4*  
  
***  
  
As the final orange-red rays of sunlight vanished over the distant silhouetted hilltops, Miriam inched closer to the soothing warmth of the bright fire. Her mid-teenaged twin brother, Aaron, sat beside her, tossing a few more twigs into the flames.  
  
"I'm afraid," Miriam whimpered in the growing evening wind.   
  
Only a few days ago, she and her brother had been the children of protective parents, part of a small but thriving village, preparing for the autumn harvest... But now, they were exiles, banished from their family, their friends, the families of their friends, and the only way of life they knew... never to return...   
  
"I know," Aaron understood. "So am I."   
  
He remembered that last day all too clearly... As they stepped beyond the borders of their rural village, with only the overworn skin wrappings on their feet, the ragged oversized trousers around their waists, and the unwashed shirts and tattered blankets on their backs, hopeless tears streamed down their dirty faces. He turned behind him to steal one last glance at his parents, the unbearable anguish in his mother's sobs and father's eyes, as they stayed behind the border beside the few villagers who cared, and the poorly armored horsemen who didn't... And now, he and her sister were all alone...  
  
"What's going to happen to us?" Miriam softly asked, tucking a few frayed brown curls behind one ear.  
  
"I don't know," Aaron replied. He carefully sprinkled a handful of berries into his sister's cupped hands. "But if we are to survive, we must stay together... always."  
  
"Always," she whispered.  
  
"Promise?"   
  
"I promise."  
  
***  
  
***  
  
After their scant firelight meal, Miriam and Aaron crawled into the low grassy burrow that laid between the edge of the woodland shadows and the foot of the gentle ridge...  
  
Dug larger and further into the hillside than when they first found it years ago, this hole was their secret home away from home, where they dug, and hid, and played as adventurous little kids, daydreaming that they were both knights in shining silver armor, riding glowing white steeds, slaying scary black dragons and other horrible creatures...  
  
Once inside their close-fitting lair, yet keeping sight of their flickering fire and the trickling brook further away, they partially blocked the entrance with two large rocks and wrapped themselves in their blankets. The long grass, the solid stones and earth, and the surrounding slopes and trees, provided ample shelter from the autumn gusts...  
  
"The visions..." Miriam whispered, curled face-to-face with her brother on the cool dirt. "Do you think we will see them again?" Several gusts whistled harmlessly and the firelight filtered dimly through the cracks in the stone-blocked entrance.   
  
"I don't know." Her brother closed his dark-brown eyes. "I hope so."  
  
"Really? Why?"  
  
"Maybe the visions can save us."  
  
***  
  
***  
  
Aaron suddenly awoke an hour later, eyes wide in the fluttering dimness. "Miriam! Did you feel that?"  
  
"Yes!" she replied, just as awake. "Like last time, it burned along my arm, and then it disappeared."  
  
"Me too. It burned across my chest again."  
  
"Aaron?" Miriam hesitated.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I think... I think I want to see the fire."  
  
***  
  
***  
  
With barely ten minutes of sleep, Helios suddenly awoke to the piercing signal of his personal workstation -- Beep-beep-beep! Beep-beep-beep! -- triple-beeping. Donning his old cap, he climbed down from his bunk to scan the main screen of his monitor array.  
  
"That's odd," the captain murmured to himself, crouching over the screen. "Looks like a localized glitch in the Matrix... but the rift seems to be ripping from the inside out..."  
  
Helios hopped into the chair to get a better look. Fingers flying over the keyboard, he began a systematic analysis of the glitch and its whereabouts on one screen, its possible cause on another screen, and its potential consequences on yet another.   
  
And then he saw it!   
  
On the main screen, he found the unique trailing code of a plugged human mind, fluctuating, flickering amidst the layers of symbols, at the edges of the glitch. 'Maybe that mind is responsible for this,' he wondered.   
  
And then he saw another!  
  
Beside the first one, he discovered the encoded pattern of a SECOND plugged mind, similarly oscillating at the fringes of the rift. 'NOW there's no doubt,' he thought. 'They MUST be responsible for this.'   
  
The captain leaned back in his chair to contemplate. Finally, after more than a year since freeing Crewman Threads, here was the opportunity for a new rescue mission, an extraordinary opportunity to free, not just ONE mind, but TWO minds from the Matrix.  
  
This was what Helios always hoped for, what he was meant to do. This was why he joined the fleet. This was why his wife Aurora and his son Hitchhiker joined the fleet. This was why his hovercraft, the 'Nosferatu,' risked penetrating the broadcast depths each and every day to hack into and search the Matrix.  
  
He leaned forward again to review the analysis. 'Hmmm,' he reflected. 'They may not be twentieth-century hackers... but any plugged mind with the power to do THAT, deserves to be freed...'  
  
Before Captain Helios stood up, swung open, and shut the door to inform the rest of his crew, he readjusted the bill of his orange cap, and smiled.  
  
"The tenth century should be interesting."   
  
***  
  
Next  
  
***  
  
Story and Notes also at http://www.the-nos.com 


	5. The Sunset 5

THE SUNSET  
  
***  
  
*5*  
  
***  
  
From the grassy windblown hilltops on the opposite side of the trickling brook, the mounted drifter easily spotted the distant but brilliant point of light, sitting low against the rapidly descending darkness. Curious, he commanded his chestnut-brown horse forward and trotted down the slight slope towards the twinkling light...  
  
As he approached the brook, his random patchwork of leather layers and metal plates clinking and clattering with each bounce, the horseman noticed how the twinkling fire carried a strange glittering of green... like emeralds... VERY strange...  
  
"Sorcerors?" he muttered through his long unkempt beard.  
  
When he reached the brook, still some distance away from the firelight, the armored horseman noticed something else... Emerald sparkles seemed to rise from the emerald-tinged flames, like unearthly rain falling upwards towards the mysterious heavens...   
  
"My God!" he gasped, sudden fear striking the drifter like lightning through his heart.  
  
Yet despite the terror, despite the terrifying thoughts of sorcerors, wizards and warlocks, and other demonic worshippers, he fought off his panic like he fought his enemies in battle... and held his ground... or so he thought...  
  
In moments, the horseman felt it... the burning pain... the searing intensity... the blinding agony streaking through every fiber of his spasming body!  
  
And then it was gone.  
  
Quickly transforming and commandeering the useful plugged-in body of the inconsequential horseman, Agent Greene adjusted his reflective sunglasses, corded earpiece, and crisp necktie, and with reins firmly in hand, rode forward across the brook.  
  
***  
  
***  
  
"Get outta here!" Crewman Threads burst out with slender eyes wide, smacking his metal dish on the metal table with a distinctive clank. "My theory is sound."  
  
"Come on!" Senior Operator Unicorn smirked. "Fire? You gotta be shitting me."  
  
"What are ya TALKIN' about?" the young Threads uttered in frustration, getting up from the stool beside Hitchhiker, ruffling his own black hair, and pacing to the far end of the cramped mess hall.   
  
"First of all," the pale-skinned Unicorn challenged, "how the hell are you gonna enter and exit a fire without getting burned?"   
  
"It's all freakin' code, Uni-cornball!" Threads exclaimed once again, returning to lean over the table. "It's not like we walk through phones or stick 'em up our asses to enter and exit the twentieth century, right?... So we shouldn't hafta walk through fires either."  
  
"He's right," Junior Operator Hitchhiker agreed from the seat opposite Unicorn, and spread his large black hands wide apart. "A clear five-to-ten-foot radius at the entry point should be enough room to transmit all four of your images and any equipment into the Matrix..." Then he brought his hands closer together, "...while a clear three-to-five-foot radius at the exit point should be enough room to receive each of you, one at a time." He turned to Unicorn, "Nobody has to walk through fires..." Then he turned to Threads, "...or stick phones up their butts."  
  
Her lean arms folded upon her chest, Commander and First Officer Million chuckled against the nearby countertop.  
  
"There you go, Uni-cornflakes," Threads laughed, and joined the taller Million against the counter. "There's your answer."   
  
"Hey, who's the Senior Operator here?" Unicorn demanded rhetorically, then added, "Besides, I was just testing you guys."  
  
Hitchhiker and Million looked at each other in genuine bewilderment and shook their heads.  
  
Threads clicked his tongue. "Yeah, right."  
  
"Thanks for your support, guys!" Unicorn returned the sarcasm. "Well, if you think the captain's son is so smart, let's see how he'd activate the transmission point... with no help from me."  
  
"Sure, why not?" Hitchhiker welcomed the challenge. "Actually, Threads, that's a great idea... using lightning bolts."  
  
"Thanks!" Threads replied, as he and Million smiled at each other.  
  
"Hmmm," Hitchhiker wondered aloud, "using lightning bolts to set targetted fires... Now, how would I do it?"  
  
This time, Unicorn shook his blond head, and sneered, "You're lost already?"  
  
"Hold on a sec," the younger but larger operator requested firmly, then continued, "Well, as I see it, the programming would deal with five parts..." He raised an index finger, "One, the fire would be the best enter-and-exit transmission point... easy to detect, easy to manipulate..." He raised the next finger, "Two, the ground would be the obvious 'land-line' connection from the fire to the Matrix OS..." Then he raised the third finger, "And three, the lightning bolt that sets the fire would be the window dressing to make the sudden fire both believable and off-limits to any strangers."  
  
"That's it?" the elder operator smirked. "That's only three."   
  
Hitchhiker ignored Unicorn, then held up four fingers, "The fourth part is camouflage..." He put his hand back down in the metal table. "Now, the beauty of using twentieth-century land-line phones is the sheer difficulty in tracing a specific phone signal to a specific phone, especially in an entire CITY of phones... like a needle in a haystack... But in an ancient virtuality where the land-line is the GROUND, it would be child's play to trace a specific ground signal to a specific camp fire, especially where fires are few and far between."  
  
Fascinated by the turn of the conversation towards covert, deceptive, and other defensive strategies, Million stepped in, "So how would you confuse the trace?"  
  
"I would have to camouflage both the lightning bolt and the camp fire..." Hitchhiker explained. "And the best environment to do that would be during a lightning-filled thunderstorm, in a lightning-caused forest fire."  
  
"Wow," Threads exhaled. "I hadn't thought of that... Nice."  
  
"That's still only four," Unicorn glowered at Threads.  
  
"Well," the junior operator held up five fingers then put them down, "the fifth part is communication..." He paused for a moment to consider. "Now, I suppose I could design some torches with hidden wireless technology, but a better way would be to use your good old cellphones... Since they aren't 'land-line' connections, you can't use them as transmission points anyway, and they'd be a lot easier to carry around than torches... unless you WANT to use torches..."  
  
"No-no-no, that's fine," Threads grinned. "I'll use my cellphone."  
  
Brushing the red locks from her flashing eyes, Million laughed, "Me too."  
  
With a wide smile, Hitchhiker joined in their brief laughter, until his laughter faded into a deep inhalation and exhalation. "So to answer Unicorn's question 'How would I activate the transmission point?'... I would direct the 'ground' transmission to the set 'camp fire' transmission point... like sending a phone signal to a phone... then flicker the flames in some pattern to activate that point... like ringing a phone."   
  
"Not bad, Operator," Captain Helios replied unexpectedly from the mess-hall entrance. "Not bad at all."  
  
***  
  
***  
  
Immediately, the crewmates of the hovercraft 'Nosferatu' straightened up from their sitting or standing positions.  
  
Stepping into the room without breaking the flow of the discussion, Captain Helios smoothly resumed, "Okay, you've covered the five parts... the fire, the ground, the lightning bolt, the camouflage, and the communication... In fact, you don't need the lightning bolt if you're camouflaging it in a lightning storm... Couldn't you set the camp fire from the same ground transmission?"   
  
"Hmmm," the captain's son thought about it. "That's true."  
  
Threads and Million raised their eyebrows in silent amazement.  
  
"But there's a sixth part," the captain added, adjusting his cap. "Tell me, how long would it take to set this up?"  
  
An increasingly awkward pause filled the mess hall, and for the first time during the group conversation, the junior operator looked to the senior operator across the table for his approval. As the captain stood above them, shifting his stare from one operator to the other then back again, Hitchhiker lifted a thick eyebrow in a subtle request to go ahead and speak, and Unicorn nodded.  
  
"Well?" the captain waited.  
  
"Actually," Hitchhiker began, conscious of Unicorn's undoubted importance, "once Unicorn and I analyze the code characteristics governing the fire and the ground, directing the ground transmission to the camp fire should be no more difficult to program than sending a phone signal to a phone."  
  
"Good," the captain nodded.  
  
"And manipulating the flame patterns," Unicorn finally spoke up, "should be no more difficult than ringing a phone... It should be a piece of cake."  
  
"Good."  
  
"As for the lightning-and-fire camouflage," Hitchhiker glanced up at his father, "all we gotta do is find a thunderstorm."  
  
"Excellent."  
  
"So if we had to set this up," the junior operator again looked to the senior operator, "I'd say, an hour to analyze, plus another couple hours to program."   
  
"Yeah," the senior operator nodded. "About three hours, give or take an hour... Why? Are we testing this theory?" He chuckled.  
  
But the captain hardly budged a chiseled feature on his solemn face.  
  
"Well, people," Helios then announced to his entire crew, "I have some good news and some bad news."   
  
"Oh, shit," Threads muttered.  
  
"The bad news is... we're testing your 'lightning-and-fire' theory, and I'm giving you one hour to set it up."  
  
The captain gazed at each member of his crew -- Hitchhiker, Unicorn, Million, and Threads -- as the crewmates gaped at each other in mind-blowing shock.  
  
"And what's the good news?" Unicorn asked, shaking off the stunning blow.  
  
"The good news is... we have a couple of minds to save."  
  
***  
  
Next  
  
***  
  
Story and Notes also at http://www.the-nos.com 


End file.
